The Not So Good Samaritan
by roserouge20
Summary: Ana's terrible day turns out to be not so terrible when she meets a handsome, seemingly compassionate stranger named Christian in a deep moment of despair. But is he truly the compassionate man she thinks he is? Or will she find there are more darker serious intentions below the surface? Darker CG.


The day starts out to be the worst.

I've always tended to err on the side of being pessimistic, but I'm not exaggerating.

My alarm goes off at 7.00 AM, as it does every other morning. In a rush, I get up, make up my bed, and get changed into my work uniform that I wear to the hardware store consisting of a checkered green-and-blue button-up shirt that says 'Clayton's' on the side pocket, and my trousers. Frantically while doing up my hair into a quick bun, I move towards the kitchen to make myself a quick cup of tea to wake myself up.

My first mistake.

After the kettle automatically flicks off, signalling that the water has been boiled, I pop in my tea bag then grasp the kettle tightly around the handle. I lean over, going to pour the boiling water into the cup carefully. Apparently I've not been careful enough. Some hot water spills and dribbles down the handle, burning not only my hand in the process but also dripping onto my work shirt.

I know it's unlikely to stain the shirt but afterwards, I cannot contain my feeling of irritation as I rush to rinse my stinging hand beneath the cool tap for a few seconds, the skin feeling sore and tender from the scalding water.

The day turns out even worse once I've finished my cup of tea and brush my teeth, getting prepared to leave.

I lock up my apartment carefully, then run down the steps towards my old Volkswagen beetle that's been in my family for what seems like centuries, having been passed down to me from my grandmother.

Wrenching the door open, I hop inside, doing up my seat belt while throwing my bag on the passenger's seat next to me. Inserting the key, I twist it, only to hear the engine splutter and vibrate. It usually doesn't sound like that of a morning, my Beetle is usually trusty and quickly to run.

I give her a few more goes to warm up, only to no success. She's stubborn and not happy to run this morning, which means I'll be running desperately to get to work on time. Fantastic.

Surrendering to defeat with a growl under my breath, I check the time on my phone. It's already 7.40 AM now and I'm due to start my shift right on the dot, at 8.00. I know from experience it usually takes me more than half an hour to get to work without a car, which means I'm screwed.

I'm going to be late. And I know my boss isn't going to like it.

Climbing back out of the car, I slam the creaky door shut while shoving my bag over my shoulder. Locking the car up securely, I turn, starting my hurried jog down the road. No matter how fast I push myself, I know it's no good and I'm going to be late.

By the time I reach the Hardware store, I am already tired and sweaty. My hair is probably all over the place from running in the wind, and I can feel myself perspiring heavily as I pant while pushing through the front door.

Already my boss or one of the other workers have been forced to open the shop up without me. I notice a few customers have already filled in.

I spot Paul, the bosses young son, behind the counter handing an elderly man his grocery bag of purchases. He shakes his head as I smile at him gingerly while rushing towards him.

"Paul, I am so sorry" I murmur under my breath. "This morning has been disastrous. First, burning myself while making a cup of tea. Then, to top it all off, my car wouldn't start so I had to run all the way here." I'm hoping he will take pity on me but pity is the very last thing he seems.

"Yeah, well, Mom still wants to see you out back." He sounds annoyed with me.

I know it isn't a good sign if my boss, his mother, wants to see me out back. It can't be for anything any good; Usually she asks to speak to people privately out back if she's going to fire them and I truly do need this job.

Bracing myself, I grab my bag and bring it with me towards the back. I knock on her door before entering nervously, finding her sitting behind her desk in her chair. Mrs Clayton can be a hard woman. She looks up from the papers she is doing to see me.

"Good morning, Anastasia. Did you over sleep?"

"No, I'm so sorry, Mrs Clayton. My car decided to play up this morning and wouldn't work."

"Well, unfortunately it's not looking so good." I know what she's about to say.

"Mrs Clayton, please," I beg desperately, moving forward to sit in the chair opposite her desk. "Please, I really do love working here. I've just had a bad morning. My car wouldn't start and I had to run all the way here."

"I'm sorry, Ana, but we really do need and expect all staff members to be here on time. Colin had to come in to open up for us because you weren't here and it was your turn to open shop."

"I know and I'm so-"

"It's just not good enough," Mrs Clayton says sternly over my pleas. "I need consistency, Ana. I can't have any of my workers coming in here late." I fall silent, panting loudly, hoping she'll give me another chance as I stare into her eyes pleadingly. Mrs Clayton isn't one to give chances. "I'm terribly sorry, Anastasia, but I'm going to have to let you go for this. I just can't have any of my workers turning up late, regardless of whether they had a good reason or not."

Begging is no use. Nor is crying, but I can't help it.

My shoulders slump as I struggle to control my emotions, my eyes building with tears. Today has really been the worst. First, getting burnt by the kettle, and now... this. Losing my job because my car broke down. What's next to go wrong?

"I appreciate all the time and effort you have taken in working here, Ana, but like I just said, I'm sorry but I'll have to terminate your employment here with us at Clayton's."

It's when I exit the store slowly that I allow my emotions to get the better of me. The tears fall freely as a broken sob tears through my teeth. I've been working at Clayton's for three years now, only barely just getting by on paying the bills and the rent for my apartment. Now what am I supposed to do with trying to get some income in?

Wiping my eyes hurriedly with my fingers, I start walking slowly, hardly caring where my legs and feet are taking me. Usually I refrain from crying out in public, I hate the fact the people stare at you but I can't help it today. My life really is the worst.

I haven't been in contact with my mother Carla since I moved out at eighteen, the instance I could. My mother and I have always had a difficult and rocky relationship, with her being so unpredictable and needy, jumping from one man to the next. Her current relationship, her boyfriend, is one of the main reasons why our relationship has been severed the way it has.

I didn't like her boyfriend from the very start. His name is Stephen Morton, and the second she brought him home to introduce me to him, we did not get along very well. He seemed just far too sleazy, too much of a jerk. My mom didn't believe me though; To her, Stephen was everything. So that caused conflict between us, the fact that Stephen and I didn't get along very well.

So as soon as I could, I left the house once I became eighteen, renting a place of my own. I haven't spoken to mom since then but far as I know, she's still dating the guy. Honestly, while she's still resuming to see him, I don't think I would ever try to get myself involved back into my mother's life ever again. It's just too hard, too complicated. So asking my mother for help is not an option.

Also, my father died when I was four. There had always been me and my mother, and her multiple endless list of boyfriends. So really, I have no one left but myself to lean onto. And right now, so far, leaning on just myself, it's total and utter crap.

I end up finding myself on the path where people walk their dogs, do their runs, or just take their children out for walk in their prams. I pass a group of youngish women walking with their prams while trying not to directly meet their gaze. I probably look pitiful, just crying in public while walking slowly like this. But to my relief they don't say anything, they just continue walking, gossiping quietly.

As my mind usually tends to do when I'm having a bad day like this it runs off, thinking horrible thoughts. I wonder what would happen if I walked to one of the overly large buildings, went inside it to the top, and flung myself out the window. Would anyone care? Would my mother?

Pausing I clasp the railing, breathing deeply. Would anyone even care if I died right now? Would I feel bad for hurting my mother... or would it just come as a true genuine relief?

"Ma'am, are you alright?" a man's smooth voice suddenly says from next to me.

I look over my shoulder, surprised, shaken out of my dismal thoughts. A guy roughly a few years older than me, about in his late twenties or early thirties, must have stopped his jogging to check up on me. I hope I haven't been sobbing too loudly. The first thing I basically notice is that the man is very attractive. He's wearing black shorts and a tank top, both tight, accentuating his muscles.

His hair is a reddish brown, windswept and tousled in the breeze. His eyes, creased with what seems to be genuine concern and worry, they are an amazing deep gray. He's very handsome. Even if I am feeling shitty and in a depressed state, I still can admire the opposite sex apparently.

"Oh, um, yes" I laugh weakly, wiping my runny nose with the back of my hand. "Sorry. I must seem so weird, crying out here like this."

"Here, I think you might need this." He reaches a hand into one of the deep pockets on his shorts, pulling out a folded handkerchief. He hands it to me, my fingers smoothing over the luxurious linen.

"Thank you so much," I whisper appreciatively. Its probably the most unexpected thing to have some stranger hand me their handkerchief. I was expecting everyone to avoid me, this weird girl crying her heart out. "That's very sweet of you to give me your handkerchief." I use it to wipe my runny nose, then trace it over my eyes, dashing my tears away hurriedly.

"You're welcome." I expect the guy to move along and continue his jogging only he doesn't. He holds out a large, masculine hand towards me. "I'm Christian."

"Hi, I'm Ana," I whisper, unclasping the railing. I use my handkerchief-free hand to shake his. "Ana Steele."

"Are you doing alright, Ana?" he asks me, his voice soft with startling concern. I had no idea that there could be strangers like him, so generous and compassionate with a stranger.

"Um, not really," I say but I shrug and laugh, trying to make it seem like a joke. "This morning is the worst for me actually."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

My eyes dart back to his face widening slightly in disbelief. He just stands there, one of his hands clutching the railing himself, his other hand resting on his hip as he breathes in a strained, harsh way.

"Um, thanks so much for the offer but I really don't think I should. After all I'm just a stranger to you. I really wouldn't want to burden you with my troubles-"

"Please, you wouldn't be burdening me," he insists. "Believe it or not there are some people that actually care to know why someone else is crying. We aren't all that bad."

It takes me a second to find my voice as I continue staring at him. He brings up his hand from his hip, slowly trailing it through his hair as he waits patiently. I definitely wasn't expecting this.

"Um, I just lost my job," I admit, turning away from him because I know I'm about to start crying again. "My car wouldn't run this morning so I was late and my boss fired me due to that. To make matters worse I also burnt my hand this morning." I show him my hand, my mouth going dry as he reaches over.

He actually wraps his fingers gently around my wrist, bringing my hand closer to look at the burn. It could be worse; It's just red and sore in the place where the water scolded it. I think it's forming a blister.

"Looks painful" he observes, finally letting my hand go.

"It sort of is but... I'm sure it'll be fine. Um, so yeah." I wipe my nose again with the soft cloth of his handkerchief. "That's basically it. I burnt my hand, my car decided not to run which made me late for work. Then to top it all off, I lost my job." I hope I'm not sounding whiny but he doesn't seem to mind listening. It's really nice. "I really needed that job too. I can't afford to live or pay my bills and rent otherwise so no doubt if I can't get a job in the next few hours, I'll risk losing the apartment I am renting too."

"You don't have family that can help you?" he asks.

"No, I don't. I don't see my mom anymore so there's really no one else. I'm stuck."

"Well, once I was finished up with all of this I was going to go grab a coffee. Why don't you join me?"

My heart slams in my mouth as I shoot a swift look into his direction again. He's asking me for coffee? This man, this stranger who out of his clearly own generosity and caring side gave me a handkerchief after noticing I was sobbing, is offering to have coffee with me? After all I've said? After him having to put up with my pathetic sob story?

"That sounds really nice but I don't think so," I murmur. "I mean, I'm emotional right now. It probably wouldn't be a very good idea and you honestly don't want to get tied down listening to an overly dramatic girl crying about how sucky her life is going for her right now."

"Well I wouldn't be asking if I wasn't interested," he says. "I truly would like for you to join me for a coffee. My shout."

Your shout?" I cannot believe this man. "Thank you, you are amazingly kind. But I really shouldn't. You've already gave me your handkerchief and have listened to me prattling on. You really don't need to buy me a coffee as well."

"Well, like I just said, I wouldn't ask if I didn't want to," he repeats again, something firmer and stronger there in his voice. "I want you to join me for coffee."

"You do?" I ask out loud stunned. "But why?"

"Because you intrigue me." I intrigue him? "I want to know more about you and hear more." He's really being candid and open with what he wants. That surprises me as well.

"Um, okay then. I guess I'll join you?" I give in apprehensively. "Why not?"

Breathing in deeply, I wipe my eyes as I watch him hold his hand out, guiding me along with him as we start to walk, my heart hammering in my chest. This day has started out so badly and yet, this man, this gorgeous stranger randomly asking me out for coffee, well, maybe it isn't completely bad?


End file.
